


The Other End of the Line

by izzyisozaki



Series: Canonverse [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Sex, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Intense Fear, Introspection, M/M, POV Victor Nikiforov, Post-Canon, Reversible Couple, do you trust me?, though there is no switching here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 12:12:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18691264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzyisozaki/pseuds/izzyisozaki
Summary: Victor returns home to find Yūri gone without a trace.Written forOkaeri@yoihomezine.





	1. "Dom | дом"

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to Tasha @takeitoffhemmo for betaing _and_ helping me choose my preview (not the above summary, that lame choice was all mine). This was written as a one-shot but was split into two parts, sfw and nsfw. So though they were published separately in different sections/editions of _Okaeri_ , they should be read together.

At first glance, everything about his living room was the same. The royal blue couch at the center, across from the flat-screen TV. The floor lamp and the stool he piled things to read on. The picture frames showing various buildings and landscapes on the walls. The large bookcase and shelf in the back. His jade plant on the desk chair. The hardwood floor.

It all seemed the same, except this wasn't how it looked after Yūri, his fiancé, had moved in with him from Japan.

A fuzzy blanket was supposed to be on the couch. They cuddled under it so often, Victor almost never put it away. The chair with his jade plant had been moved towards the entrance, according to some rules of fengshui Yūri knew, but now it was back near the desk. Victor’s eyes wandered to the window. The cactus Yūri gifted him was no longer there. All signs of his time coaching Yūri were gone from the room, the pictures taken, the awards won, and the sports or fashion magazines featuring them together nowhere to be seen. All his fiancé’s garments on the coat hanger had vanished too. Victor began to panic as he entered further into the apartment, stumbling towards his bedroom until he opened the door.

How long had they been living together? Nearly…a year, and easily one of the most hectic ones of his life, between coaching and training for competitions himself. But also the happiest. He loved Yūri so, so much, and looked forward to waking up next to him every morning, along with their dog, Makkachin.

What had happened that day? They just returned from work as usual, right? When Victor came home late, Yūri always greeted him at the door with Makkachin unless he was sleeping or busy preparing dinner. Their routine rarely changed, though there was always room for surprises. They had the apartment all to themselves, so there were days either of them could walk in to something unexpected. They were Victor Nikiforov and Yūri Katsuki, after all. Doing the unexpected was their modus operandi.

But this wasn't anything like the surprises they prepared each other; the only thing this could be was a sick joke. He moved forward to the bed, grabbing the left pillow, the one Yūri used, and quickly brought it to his face. It didn't smell like him. It didn't smell like anything, really. Maybe Yūri did the laundry. Maybe Victor couldn't smell through his nose right. Maybe…

His phone began to ring. He looked down, feeling a surge of hope. It could be Yūri. Immediately taking out his phone, however, he saw it was a private number. He tapped the screen to pick up the call, placing the pillow under his arm.

“H-Hello?”

For a few seconds he heard nothing on the other end but eerie silence. Then, a thump, like that of a body falling. Victor felt his nervousness spike as his hand began to shake, and he put the call on loudspeaker.

“Who is it?” he asked as he stared at the screen of his phone.

The line remained silent, as if no one was on the other end. Looking around nervously, Victor debated whether to hang up so he could call the police. Then, breaking the nerve-racking silence, he heard the sound of rustling cloth in the speaker, as if the phone was being rubbed, followed by tapping. It made Victor feel uneasy, though it was better than hearing some creepy voice.

“Sei stato abbandonato.”

Victor nearly dropped his phone in surprise when he suddenly heard an ominous voice coming from it, a feeling of fright followed by irritation coming over him at the phrase. It wasn't a simple prank caller. Who would quote the lyrics from the aria he skated to in his long program last season and in the exhibition skate with his fiancé?

“Who are you? A ‘fan’?” Victor laughed bitterly. He hadn't heard the voice clearly, but it sounded familiar. Either way, he didn't have time for this.

“I’m going to hang up if you have anything relevant to say,” he warned.

“Sparirà questa notte.”

Victor bit down hard on his lip, not liking what he was hearing one bit. They were lyrics from the aria “Stammi vicino, non te andare,” yes, but they were said a way to take on different and terrible meanings. He knew the music too well to not get that.

“What do you want?” he asked impatiently.

“Beviamo?”

Victor dropped both the pillow and his phone, the scream in his throat dying before it could reach his mouth.

There was a ghostly figure at the window, one he couldn't distinguish apart from the pink of some clothing it was wearing. He began to feel sick, terror closing in on him as he made a run for the door. It no longer opened, and as his panic rose, he turned around to look at the window again.

The apparition was no longer there, but that wasn’t much consolation if he still couldn't get out. He began to beat against the door, scream the name of every friend and neighbor he had, but especially that of his fiancé.

Yūri.

 

 

“…Victor?”

_I’m not alone,_ he realized, eyes wide open as his heart raced in his chest. His breath was short, the wave of panic that had jolted him awake still fresh in his mind. It had been just a nightmare.

“Are you okay?”

Victor heard the flip of a switch, and one of the lamps next to the bed turned on; it was truly over. Despite that, the dread from his dream lingered on, making his stomach twist uncomfortably. Only when he turned his head and gazed into the worried eyes of his fiancé did he begin to feel more at ease.

“Yūri.”

Leaning forward, Yūri pushed back Victor’s ash blond hair to reveal his left eye. He smiled softly, caressing the side of Victor’s cheek with his palm.

“Yes, Victor?”

Yūri didn't look like he’d been sleeping at all, and judging by the clock that signed 23:27, he probably wasn't. Victor had been so beat from training at the ice rink today, he went straight to bed after they had dinner. Yūri had stayed in the living room with Makkachin, Victor’s silver-beige poodle, watching videos from practice or just relaxing in front of the TV while Russian programs aired. Victor had kissed Yūri goodnight, patted their dog, gotten ready for bed, and read ten minutes before sleeping as usual.

“Oh. Nothing. I mean, what I dreamt was _something_ , but it’s okay now.”

He brought his hand to Yūri’s wrist and gave it a meaningful kiss, and Yūri smile widened.

“Was it Makkachin chewing up all your designer shoes again?”

Victor laughed and shook his head. “If only.”

He smiled at Yūri a few seconds more before moving to hook his arm around the younger man’s waist, pulling him to lie down on the mattress. After pulling up the covers, he brought his hand to Yūri’s hair, staring into round, gentle eyes as he began to play with the dark strands.

“Are you worried about anything?” Yūri eventually asked, lacing the fingers of their right hands together.

Victor did have a few concerns about the future, like anyone did, but the nightmare had hit a little too close to home with the worst case scenarios. He knew Yūri wasn't leaving and that the latter loved him. Those were facts that couldn't be shaken by any stretch of imagination, but there was always an unconscious fear – one, for example, that it had all been just a dream.

Their love, their life together. Their home and everything with it.

“I think…” Victor paused, unsure how to word it without sounding overly concerned. “I just can't imagine my life without you anymore.”

It was slight, but Yūri’s lips parted in surprise, eyes gazing at Victor. He looked so cute like that, and Victor wanted to kiss him, to absorb every detail that made him who he was.

Because if there was one thing he studied more than the ice, it was Yūri.

“Then don't,” Yūri suggested, interrupting Victor’s thoughts. “It’s not going to happen.”

Victor had to say he was impressed; Yūri usually never spoke in a way that closed the doors on any negative scenario. There was, in fact, one unavoidable reality. His fiancé was surely aware of that, and he waited to hear his reasoning.

“We’re always together in spirit, no?”

Yūri was borrowing Victor’s own words, the ones he told Yūri before he left for Japan during the Rostelecom Cup. A few seconds passed, and Victor broke into an embarrassed smile.

“Do you…” His voice was so brittle, he feared it would break before he finished. “…really think so?”

“I do.” Yūri rubbed the gold ring on Victor’s finger, both of their hands still folded.

He was supposed to have calmed down at that point, but for some reason Yūri’s response struck a chord deep within Victor. Maybe it was because he’d just woken from a nightmare, maybe it was because he loved Yūri so much and had feared losing him after the GPF, but the emotion vibrated through his entire body until he was squeezing Yūri’s hand like a lifeline.

“…that beautiful mouth of yours.”

With his hand still threaded in Yūri’s hair, Victor craned forward, Yūri’s eyes darting from his eyes to his lips and vice versa before falling closed. Victor’s attention drifted from the curve of Yūri’s mouth to his long eyelashes, making him slack his haste. Yūri was beautiful, in many ways. On the surface and within. Once he found a purpose, he would fight till the bitter end. He would chase love to the ends of the earth and then let it go free, shattering his own glass heart in turn.

If it was enough for Victor to watch him skate, surely his life would have been simpler. Instead, he needed to touch, feel, and see Yūri everywhere. To hear, breath, and taste his essence. If love was a web, then Victor was caught in its silk, with only his life to give in exchange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was close! And it gets a lot better in the next part


	2. "Love Hotel"

Victor held the kiss for a short moment, their lips barely sounding when he pulled back. When Yūri reopened his eyes, they kissed again, locked in a sultry stare. Victor knew it was just the beginning, both of them loving and wanting. When Victor tried to break from kissing to ask, though, Yūri’s lips mashed into his with more urgency, leaving room only for swipes of tongue and rasps of “yes.” Yūri’s taste drew Victor in, and he wasn't going to hold himself back any longer.

Securing his arm over Yūri’s shoulder, he hugged Yūri tightly to his chest, leaving a small space between their lower bodies.

“Yū…” Victor tried to speak, right hand coming to Yūri’s belly button under his shirt, “can I…?”

Yūri’s breath hitched at the cool touch, hand fisting and tugging lightly on Victor’s hair. How did his switch flip so quickly? Victor wondered as his fingers played gently with the hem of Yūri’s pants, teasing the soft skin just below his tummy.

“God, Victor, do whatever you want with me.”

“Yū–mmh.” Yūri took Victor’s lip between his teeth, canting his hips into Victor’s hand.

No longer hesitating, Victor moved his hand over the bulge in Yūri’s boxer briefs, clenching the fabric.

“–no teasing tonight,” he said in a tone that was half command and half request.

Yūri was already hard against his hand, and Victor’s heart swelled in his chest.

“You feel so good…” Victor twisted his hand to reach further down, tracing his fingers down the curve of Yūri’s testes, taking and pressing them just so in his hand.

Yūri duly moaned in response, sound caught in his throat before escaping his mouth. Desire coiled tight and hot in Victor’s stomach as he indulged teasing Yūri a little, pondering whether he should just flip him over and go on from there. God knew how Victor craved it. But he was also in the mood for something more like their first time.

Removing his hand from the space just between Yūri’s pajama pants and underwear, Victor went on to touch him, this time with no barrier separating their skin.

“Remember when I touched you here the first time? How you grinded down into my lap and said you were mine?”

Trimmed hair brushed the pads of Victor’s fingers as they slipped lower into Yūri’s boxer briefs, not giving Yūri the time to reply.

“You're really,” he continued, “my life and love.”

“Victor…!”

Except for the occasional graze of his hand, Victor _still_ wasn't touching him where he ached to be touched. Then again, teasing was something relative.

“I’d love to open and explore you slowly, taking full advantage of your flexibility, but…not tonight.”

Victor was still pretty beat from today, not to mention he was rather eager to get to it too.

He pushed up the rest of Yūri’s shirt, shifting so he could be on eye-level with his chest. Blue eyes quickly raked over Yūri’s pectorals in appreciation, the skin flushed pink and smooth, before lips were pressed to one of Yūri’s nipples; it was already perked and Victor hummed as he took it in his mouth, finally moving to wrap his hand around Yūri’s erection.

It was already a bit wet, so he slowly pumped his hand, pulling down the foreskin.

“So g-good…” Yūri writhed in pleasure, his hold on Victor’s hair loosening. Knowing what would make it even better, Victor paused what he was doing and reached for the bedside drawer.

“I’ll make sure of that,” he assured, fumbling with the contents of the drawer until he found what he was looking for. “With some help.”

But before doing that, Victor decided he would take off his shirt, making sure Yūri, who was now lying under him, got a perfect view. He took the ends and began to pull it over his head. As predicted, a hand came to his chest, sliding down slowly.

Once he tossed it away, Victor saw Yūri was already uncapping the bottle of lube he had taken out. He knew Yūri hated it cold, and was probably going to rub it between his han–

He poured it all over his stomach, recapping and throwing it to the side when he was done.

“Hurry and warm it up for me.”

Victor’s mouth went dry at that. This man knew exactly what he did to him.

He brought his hands immediately to Yūri’s stomach, easily kneading the flesh that was covered in liquid. Yūri began to arch off the mattress, lost in how erotic it was, as Victor watched, dazed.

Maybe he needed to fuck him after all.

“I…I think you've changed my mind.”

Yūri’s hands came around Victor’s shoulders, pulling Victor down so he could lock him between his thighs.

“Good. Now it’s your turn to wait. Rub against me.”

Victor bit back a moan at the commanding tone, feeling Yūri’s wet, naked skin brushing against his own. Without thinking twice, he aligned their hips, losing himself to the heady feeling of wanting and being wanted. By the time he buried his face into Yūri’s neck, they were frotting helplessly, the latter's fingers carding through his hair and yanking at the roots whenever Victor’s hands squeezed around his ass.

“Fuck…”

Victor smiled to himself, licking at the spot where he had bitten Yūri’s neck. Usually Yūri never cursed, let alone this early on, so he must have really been enjoying himself.

“Yes?”

“Take off your pants and put on a condom,” he said, breathing heavily, “I’ll prep myself.”

Victor’s eyes were like saucers as he stared at Yūri, who smirked and moved back to get what was needed from the drawer. Whenever Yūri said that, it meant Victor would have to sit back and watch for who knew how long. Yūri was sure bent on torturing him tonight.

Without wasting any time, he passed Victor a lubricated condom, using another for his fingers. They were both pretty fussy about cleanliness, and it made the whole thing simpler when they weren't as prepared.

Not that they weren't, mostly. Together they had showered very…thoroughly.

“What do you want me to do?”

Yūri smiled, setting their pillows against the headboard to cushion his upper body. He was so…beautifully naked and Victor couldn't help but stare.

“Surprise me.”

Victor licked his lips, hopeful. Perhaps it wouldn't be that bad.

Placing both feet on the mattress, Yūri pressed back into the pillows. Victor, kneeling in front of him, did his best not to look as Yūri rubbed lube on his hands and began to prod between legs. He made the mistake of watching once and came almost as soon as he was inside Yūri.

He wouldn't be able to not hear anything though.

“Mmm, lube yourself up and turn off the light.”

Victor promptly obeyed, returning quickly to his spot on the mattress when he was done. Placing his hands under Yūri’s knees, he pushed back Yūri’s legs until they reached his shoulders, making Yūri cry out as he continued to finger himself.

“Does that make it easier, love?”

Yūri panted, giving only a half-formed yes in response.

Lifting his hand, he started to unbend Yūri’s right leg, pushing until it was straight. It gave rather easily, yet as soon as it was halfway up Yūri began to whimper, making Victor throb in response. He had to be doing that on purpose! Victor tried to distract himself, leaving lingering kisses on Yūri’s forehead, but Yūri’s ragged breathing only intensified.

“Y-Yūri…”

He heard the sound of latex being pulled off, and before he knew it, Yūri’s hand was on his cock, angling it towards him.

 _“I want you inside,”_ Yūri said firmly in Russian, not quite rolling his r.

Victor swore under his breath; he had reached the brink of his patience.

Moving forward, he pushed down on the back of Yūri’s thighs, easing the tip in. It was still tight, and he was painfully hard, but the lube helped.

By the time he bottomed out, Yūri was gasping, hand tangling into Victor’s hair and arm hooking around his neck. He thrusted shallowly, entering a gentle, uneven rhythm. He knew how Yūri liked it deep, but he would only pound him properly after he found the right angle. If only it were easier to focus…

 _“Victorrr,”_ Yūri whined into Victor’s neck, _“please.”_

 _“Yes, my love,”_ he breathed out in Russian. There was no stopping it once Yūri started.

After a few more thrusts, intercepted by a few deep, languid kisses, Victor brought Yūri down to lie on his back, tucking in his arms as Yūri crossed his legs over his shoulders.

When he started moving again, this time with more conviction, Yūri hands came to caress the small of his back, sometimes pulling in time with Victor. Once the movement was fluid, and Victor couldn't possibly hold out for much longer, he snapped his hips, thrusting where Yūri seemed to be responding more, eventually eliciting a high-pitched moan, followed by a mantra of smaller ones as he continued.

Yūri’s hands began to claw at his skin, momentarily distracting him until Yūri grabbed his ass.

_“Don't stop!”_

Victor wasn't sure sure what was hotter, Yūri digging his nails into his ass or hearing him scream his pleasure in Russian.

He fucked into Yūri with abandon, knowing he was close and that it was good for his soon-to-be-husband too. He called him over and over again, until he wasn't sure which of them was more of a mess, both moaning obscenely in the soundproofed room.

_“Yūri, ah, I love you. I love you so much.”_

Yūri began to clench around him, and Victor met him with a kiss, seconds away from coming as well.

 _“V-Viten’ka, god. Never let go of me,”_ his voice rasped intermittently, Japanese accent bearing heavily on the Russian words.

Victor quickly freed his arms so he could pull Yūri into a tight embrace, pace beginning to stutter as he thrust.

_“I won't. I won't.”_

They held onto each other as their climax washed over them, pleasure still thrumming through their bodies even after they came down. Victor nuzzled Yūri’s face, starting to pull out very slowly, so Yūri wouldn't notice as much. He kept his arms locked around Yūri, kissing him lightly. After a few moments Yūri was kissing him back, and Victor rolled them over so Yūri could move as he pleased. He would need a moment before having the energy to do anything else.

_“Wow.”_

Yūri buried his face in Victor’s chest, taking a moment to respond.

 _“Next time…without condom.”_ Yūri’s voice was so small Victor almost didn't hear it.

 _“Yes…this weekend...”_ He brushed his hand over Yūri’s hair, still too blissed out to move. _“If I manage to seduce you, that is.”_

Yūri huffed amusedly, escaping Victor’s hold to turn on the light.

 _“All you need to do is make those…”_ Yūri pondered for the right word in Russian, deciding to switch back to English, “puppy eyes and you get anything you want.”

“What! And my charm? My endless sex appeal?”

Yūri smiled, bright enough to light the room and every angle of Victor’s heart.

“It helps…kind of.”

“Kind of,” Victor repeated.

“Okay, a lot.”

Victor bit down a smile and Yūri grabbed some tissues to quickly wipe his stomach, reaching to remove Victor’s condom as well. After cleaning them off quickly with a few wet wipes, he recovered their pajamas, helping Victor into his.

“Finally under the covers so I can snuggle you~” Victor cooed.

“It wouldn't have taken so long if you’d just moved.”

“That wouldn't have been as enjoyable as my prince taking care me ♡”

Yūri hid his face, muttering something incomprehensible against Victor’s chest.

“What’s that?” Victor asked.

“I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Victor kissed the crown of Yūri’s head, breathing out deeply before he replied.

“But it’s real.”

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the spooky route to shake things up a little and practically played myself with how much it hurt! How do people do it, I wonder. I want to protect these boys forever


End file.
